Rose Colored Glasses
by Laura Schiller
Summary: She'd forgotten how absurdly fitting it was to wear them, considering how naive she could be..." A twist on Dirk's coming-out scene.


Rose Colored Glasses

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Weetzie Bat

Copyright: Francesa Lia Block

"I have to tell you something," said Dirk.

Weetzie watched him across the table of their restaurant booth, hoping to look cooler than she felt; her knuckles were white under the table. What could be so important that he hadn't told her, his best friend, before?

Unless, of course...but it would be silly to hope. They had been hanging out together in mosh pits, movie theatres, his grandma's house and the sparkling beaches of L. A. for months, sometimes in nothing but their swimsuits – she'd bought a red bikini especially for him, but he'd never even noticed. Dirk was gorgeous, with his piercing blue eyes and dangerous, glossy black mohawk, and he was the only friend Weetzie had in the world – the only one who understood the magic of their city and the importance of following your heart. But after months and months had gone by without even a kiss, Weetzie had slowly, quietly resigned herself to the fact that best friends was all they were ever likely to be.

Until now...

Weetzie leaned in a little closer, pushing up her pink sunglasses which were threatening to slide down her nose. Seen through them, everything looked rosy, even Dirk's black leather jacket and the heavy steel chains around his neck.

Was this the moment? The moment he would take her hand in his strong, pale one and tell her the words that would send her soaring through the purple sunset sky? She couldn't speak. She could hardly breathe. All she could do was look, and listen.

And then Dirk spoke. Softly, hoarsely, as if confessing a shameful secret. And Weetzie's heart did give a bound – but not the joyful one she had expected.

"I'm gay," he said.

_Wait...what? _

She could feel herself deflating like a pricked balloon, like bread that hadn't risen and slumped defeatedly in the pan. So that explained it – the fact that he'd never gone out with any of the girls from their school who clearly adored him, the fact that his eyes had slipped right over her bikini-clad body without noticing. _At least_, she thought ironiclly, _now I know it has nothing to do with my being too skinny. But, lanky lizards! How could I not have noticed?_

And even in the midst of her disappointment, Weetzie's curiosity took over. If he really was...like that...how long had it been going on? Did he have a...what could you call it? Boyfriend? Lover? How had he found out? And was there really absolutely no chance of his being interested in his skinny, bleach-blonde, female best friend with the rose-colored glasses?

"Who, what, where, when, how?" she spluttered, her head spinning, realizing how silly she sounded. She wished she had a mental alarm bell that could warn her when she was about to be silly; as it was, she never noticed until after the words had left her mouth. "

"Well, not _how,_" she amended, squirming in her seat. That was a pointless question – she might as well ask how it came about that she liked boys.

Dirk simply looked at his hands on the tabletop, growing visibly more tense with every second. Poor Dirk – there he was, 'coming out' perhaps for the first time – waiting to see if his friend would let him stay out in the light, or push him back into that cramped, narrow closet and walk away in disgust. Weetzie's heart melted like butter on hot toast; she stood up, sat next to him and gave him a one-armed, _friendly _hug.

"It doesn't matter a bit, honey-honey," she said, in her best attempt at a reassuring voice. And as far as their friendship was concerned, it really didn't. He was her Pontiac-driving surfer dude punk partner, the end of her sentences and the punchline to her jokes. He was the pinch of salt in her soup she couldn't do without, and that would never change.

As for those other feelings, he didn't need to know – it would only make him feel guilty, kind soul that he was under all that leather and steel.

"But you know I'll always love you the best," said Dirk, smiling and poking the tip of her nose. "And think you're a beautiful, sexy girl."

Weetzie felt something like an iron-gloved hand squeezing her heart. That was _not_ the context in which she'd wanted those words to be said. At the same time, she felt grateful all over again for Dirk, who knew her so well; he must be sensing the dark vibrations she gave off, and trying to cheer her up the best way he knew how.

It was almost funny, really. A slight smile began to grow on Weetzie's face as she pictured the irony of it. She had found yet another thing she had in common with Dirk – they were both into boys.

"Now we can Duck hunt together," she remarked drily, using their private code word for attractive potential boyfriends. He grinned, relieved beyond words that she had accepted him; here was one person, at least, he wouldn't have to hide from.

Weetzie found herself praying the hunt would be short. Surely he was out there somewhere – the dark, mysterious 'secret agent lover' of her dreams? She had hoped so hard that Dirk might be the one – he had the right looks, the right attitude, and he had picked her – flat-chested, scatterbrained and quirkily dressed as she was – to hang out with, out of all the beautiful girls at their school. But he wasn't the one after all, and Weetzie focused hard on her salad plate so Dirk wouldn't see the cracks forming in her smile.

The green leaves had a pink tinge to them. Rose-colored glasses. She'd forgotten how absurdly fitting it was, considering how naïve she could be. Dirk had teased her about it often enough, but now she wondered if she shouldn't get herself some black lenses instead. She could switch them according to her mood – wouldn't that be interesting?

With a sudden movement that had Dirk raising one eyebrow in surprise, she shoved them up onto her forehead, rumpling her platinum blonde hair. Seeing pink was all well and good, but enough was enough; she had to see the world in its real colors, green and black and silver and blue, before she went insane. No more daydreams for now, no more secret crush. The boy in front of her was gay, and her best friend, and she would simply have to live with that.


End file.
